


For Richer, For Poorer

by Dr_Harbinger



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1949022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Harbinger/pseuds/Dr_Harbinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pressure of making sure his mother, sister and uncle are cared for in Kirkwall is taking its toll on Hawke. Anders watches over his secret lover and worries.</p><p>NOTE: This story is written in first person from Anders' POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Richer, For Poorer

**Author's Note:**

> The AU part of this story comes from these points:  
> 1) Hawke and Anders are in an established relationship before the Deep Roads expedition  
> 2) Justice is not strong enough to really influence Anders' thoughts outside his blackouts  
> 3) Hawke is a former Templar  
> 4) Latent magic in the blood is a thing (meaning children of mages can be non-mages but still carry lyrium in their blood making them sensitive to magic and can use it for Templar talents)
> 
> NOTE: The following characters and settings are all owned by Bioware, EA games and other actual copyright holders. This is for non-profit entertainment only.

How old were you my love when you were lashed for the first time? How old are these scars I trace along your spine while you sleep by my side, too tired to dream from the day of fighting without a meal to sustain your energy? Some feel old and gnarled beneath my fingers. Some are more recent. I am not stupid though. I see the pendant you wear. You once served as a Templar. Were these your punishment for sparing mages? Or did you suffer these for saving them from your fellows who took too much delight in torturing those weaker than themselves?

You are brave, my knight, and stronger than someone your age should have any right to be. I see you starve so your family can eat. I watch as you shield others from blows with both your actual shield and your body, regardless of the consequences. You suffer every day for others and take nothing more than what you need to survive for yourself. It is why I am here, watching over you now. A man like you shouldn’t be made to endure this kind of pain alone. You deserve more than just a faint smile in thanks for your sacrifices.

So I wrap my arms around your slowly withering frame and try to give you the warmth your too thin blankets do not provide you with. You share this hovel with your uncle, your mother and sister. They are all out, buying food with the money you’ve worked so hard for while you rest your weary body for a few hours before you get up to do it again. At this rate I worry you will catch your death with the strain you are putting on yourself. My magic can heal most things but it draws from your strength. If you are too weak…

But no. I’m getting ahead of myself. If I do my job right, you won’t get sick to begin with. I run my fingers through your soft, short hair and can’t help but think how natural it feels to be like this with you. We are both men. The Chantry hardly condones it. But I am an apostate and you are a former Templar. Neither of us are exactly looked upon favorably anyway. But I cannot help but feel as if we were meant to be, even under such circumstances.

I feel you curl tightly on yourself and a shudder run through you as a draft sweeps though. I wrap myself more firmly around you, using my coat to keep us both warm. I can feel your heart beating beneath my hand and it feels erratic. It’s straining under the stress of keeping you alive with so little energy to work with. You won’t survive much longer if you keep living like this. I’ll start looking for better work for you, my love, something a man like you can stand to do without compromising your morals and still make enough coin to keep your family cared for.

I hear the door open in the other room and the soft murmurs of your mother and sister as they return from their trip. Gamlen is still out though what he’s doing with the money you’ve worked so hard for I don’t know. I have to get up now, love, so I charm your blanket to stay warm without me there and hope it will be enough. I kiss you softly on your lean cheek, hating how I can feel your bone beneath my lips, even as you try to hide it with your scruff. I will talk to them about what they’re doing to you. You shouldn’t starve like this in your own home.

“How is he?” Bethany asks me and I want to be angry with her. She lives with you! Surely she sees how your smile never reaches your eyes or how slowly you move some days when the pain of your body, from your wounds or your hunger, threatens to overwhelm you? But then, she’s lived with it for so long, perhaps she’s come to think of it as the norm. I pray that I will not one day accept that.

“He’s asleep,” I tell her, “but he’s weakening. He’s gone too long without a decent meal. It’s straining his heart.”

“But-”

“Wearing the armor he does requires a lot of strength and the way he wields his sword and shield demands a lot of energy. He’s burned away a lot of his reserves. His body is eating away at muscle now.”

“He’s never complained-”

This idiot girl. “He served as a Templar on principle, Bethany. He would give you the clothes on his back and the last scrap of bread in his house if he thought it would make you happier. It is what he does.”

Your mother looks at me with sad eyes. “He is his father’s son.”

They set their bags down and as I watch they start putting away food and begin cooking for the night. I already know it will be a meager meal. Until you leave for the expedition into the Deep Roads it’s all they can afford. But some food in your shriveled stomach is better than nothing. I am worried you won’t even have the strength to get out of bed today without assistance. I take a seat while they cook and work on a list of things to do for my clinic. They know I will be the one to feed you though they think it’s my duty as a healer rather than that of a lover. I wish I had the courage to tell them but I know you fear your mother’s wrath on the matter. You’re her only living son and she wants grandchildren.

While the stew is cooking over the fire, Bethany comes to sit with me. Your mother goes to sit by your side, likely wracking herself with guilt. She is like you in that regard. You always take on such a heavy burden. 

Bethany tries to flirt with me and I politely flirt back. I know she has a thing for me but I know I’m too old, too jaded for her. She hasn’t seen the hardship you have. Her eyes are still so full of innocence and she is still so naïve. I try to avoid hurting her feelings but I can’t think of polite ways to shut her down sometimes. Especially when she gets riled up about things. 

Right now she’s upset that you’ve told her you plan on leaving her behind for the expedition. I for one am glad. She hasn’t seen war, not like you and I have. If she came along you’d likely end up spending your time defending her rather than leading the attack on the darkspawn. She’s not that talented with magic and she’s easily frightened. I will not have you dying in the Deep Roads because your sister insisted on going on this trip. You deserve so much more than that.

She’s looking to me to side with her and keeps trying to grab my hand. You would likely find this amusing, love, but I find it annoying. I am careful with my words. I cannot afford to offend her when you are in such a delicate state. But I do not bend so far as to let her hold my hand. I will not encourage her, only to break her heart when she eventually does learn of us. It would be crueler than I am capable of, even with her. 

When the food is done your mother hands me a bowl of the stew and a crust of bread for you. I thank her and retreat to the bedroom. You are beginning to stir and I take comfort in that. You have been sleeping for a while. I’ll feel better when there is food in your stomach.

Your blue eyes glow for a moment when you open them and whereas once that would make me nervous I now recognize it as your naturally lyrium laced blood resettling after I walk into the room. You are a rare one in your own right. I know of no Templar whose natural blood holds enough lyrium to make him that sensitive to magic. I suppose it comes from your father’s blood. He was a powerful archmage if I remember correctly and while you possess no magic yourself there is enough lyrium in your blood to make even the most skilled mundane Templar look like a child compared to the sheer power behind those talents. When we first coupled, the thought of such a powerful Templar beneath me thrilled me in many ways. Even now, seeing that reminder of your power sends a sharp bolt of lust through me though it is tempered by the leanness of your face.

You smile when you see me and try to sit up but are too weak from the round of healing I so recently did to sit up on your own completely. I help you to sit up and wrap your thin blanket around your shoulders tightly before passing you your meal. You glance at me with questioning eyes. “It’s yours,” I say, “I’ve already eaten.” Or rather I will after I feel you’ve eaten enough. I’ve eaten today. It’s clear to me you’ve been fasting for too long. I’ll feel safer after you eat.

You look disbelieving but tuck into your meal. As I watch you eat slowly, savoring each bite, as if trying to memorize the flavor like some precious memory. How long have you gone hungry, my love, that you’ve come to think of this small bowl of food and that tiny crust of bread is a feast? How long was your fast this time? Five days? Six? Small wonder you were so exhausted after I healed your wounds. It worries me to see you go so long without this basic human necessity.

I run my fingers through your hair while you eat, trying to ease my own discomfort by touching you. As much as I hate the very idea of returning to the Deep Roads, I feel as if I have to come with you. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise, knowing you’re in a darkspawn infested pit fighting for your life with only a cheap weapon, shield and armor to protect you. Who else will look after you, make sure you’re eating properly and tending to your wounds, if I stay here? I have seen what happens if the Corruption spreads. I will not let that happen to you.

When you are done with your food you carefully set the bowl aside and shift so that you are leaning against me. Your cheek rests on my shoulder while your nose presses against my neck and your hands rest comfortably at my sides. I wrap my arms around you and hold you gently, leaning against you and finding comfort in your presence. You will likely feel tired again in a few moments. Eating even that small a meal makes you sleepy. I hum for you a song I faintly remember my mother singing for me when the nightmares got to be too much. It helps to ease you to sleep.

At some point you shift in my arms and I feel your lips press a kiss to my neck. “You don’t have to stay with me,” you say, your voice soft enough to tell me you’re already half asleep, “You have other patients to tend to, I’m sure. I’ll be alright.”

I hold you tighter and try to hide my sob behind a laugh. “None of them are as stubborn as you.” I worry that if I leave you now something will happen and I won’t be able to make it in time to save you. It took too much to save you this time from the infection that had just begun to set in from an untreated wound in your abdomen. I can still sense it lingering somewhat but there is little I can do about that now until you’re stronger. Maybe after you rest I can try to eliminate the last vestiges of it before it flares up. 

We cradle each other for a little while then I feel you grow heavier as sleep starts to overtake you again. I am gentle as I settle you back into your wooden bed. It won’t be much longer. The expedition leaves in a week. If it is successful, you won’t have to sleep on a half rotten bed with such threadbare blankets to keep you warm in the cold of the night. You won’t have to go hungry for so long or risk your life every day for the coin to survive. Just watch. We’ll find enough treasure down there to save you from this life. I know we will. 

Once you’re settled I slip in with you so that I am holding you as I was before. I drape my coat over us both and press myself tightly against your back. You sigh happily and hold my hand to your heart. It’s hard not to fall in love with you all over again for that little gesture alone. I kiss your shoulder beneath my lips and finish humming the song I started earlier. If your mother or sister ask why we are curled up like this I’m certain I can think up an excuse. Rest for now, my love. Let your pain, your hunger, your burdens and worries go if only for a little while. I have you. I will protect you, my brave knight. Rest. There is much to be done when you wake.


End file.
